


asking for a friend

by killerqueenwrites



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Parent Tony Stark, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, absolutely not based on my dumb ass, even if he won't admit it, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 20:22:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20453012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killerqueenwrites/pseuds/killerqueenwrites
Summary: "What’s up?”“No, nothing’s wrong. Why would you think something’s wrong?” Peter gives a nervous laugh.So there’s definitely something wrong. “Yeah, no. Not buying it. Spill.”“Umm. Uh-huh. So…just, like, asking for a friend here…”“I’m on the edge of my seat.”“For absolutely no reason whatsoever, but…is it possible to break your kneecaps?”Okay, what? “Excuse me?”





	asking for a friend

**Author's Note:**

> this is absolutely not based on my stupid ass falling off a stile, into a river and smashing my knee on a rock, and then proceeding to give my mum a heart attack by calmly asking if you can break your knees lmao
> 
> anyway, this is set not long after homecoming so tony and peter are still a little awkward with each other. babies. enjoy!

_“Boss, Peter Parker is calling.”_

Tony’s head shoots up from his project, a couple of modifications to what he’s tentatively calling the Iron Spider. Maybe a little derivative, but then again, Spider-Man is Team Iron Man.

Right. Kid calling. “Mr Parker? How can I help?”

_“Dammit, Karen, I said – uh, h-hey, Mr Stark! How – how are you?”_

“I’m good, kid.” Tony can’t help the little grin that tugs at the corner of his mouth. He hadn’t actually been sure the kid would call, despite having Tony’s number; no more going through Happy. It’s been a few weeks since the Discovery (yes, capitalised), more than a month since Parker’s homecoming and Toomes.

Three weeks since May Parker had called him, screeching every profanity under the sun at him while Peter’s pleading peppered the pauses she took to breathe. Once she’d finished cursing him out – probably fairly – she’d cried. Cried about Peter putting himself in danger, about the beach, the damn ferry, about how easy it would be to lose him. No matter what Tony promised , what he told her – well, he wasn’t sure he was in May Parker’s good books, not that he ever really had been.

So, yeah. He hadn’t been sure Peter would call, if his aunt would let him. The only signs of life from the kid had been regular updates from his suit’s AI, better known now as Karen, apparently.

_“That’s cool. Cool. Tony Stark has my number. I’m calling Tony Stark. Cool. Cool cool cool cool cool–“_

“Say ‘cool’ again, Parker, I dare you.”

_“Oh, I – I’m sorry.”_

“No, kid–“ They’re still in the ohmygod-it’s-Tony-Stark phase, clearly. “It’s fine, I’m kidding. What’s up?”

_“No, nothing’s wrong. Why would you think something’s wrong?”_ Peter gives a nervous laugh.

So there’s definitely something wrong. “Yeah, no. Not buying it. Spill.” Maybe he’s a little blunt, but Peter’s a teenager. They speak sarcasm, right?

_“Umm. Uh-huh. So…just, like, asking for a friend here…”_

“I’m on the edge of my seat.”

_“For absolutely no reason whatsoever, but…is it possible to break your kneecaps?”_

_Okay, what?_ “Excuse me?”

_“I mean–“_

_“In answer to Mr Parker’s question, yes: it is possible to both fracture and dislocate your kneecaps.”_

“There, computer says yes.”

_“Huh. I guess, in hindsight, that’s kind of obvious – like, they’re bones, right?”_

“That they are. This was also very easily Googleable, kid.”

He can practically see the petulant face Peter’s making. Cute. _“Well, I was about to, and then Karen called you instead–“_

“Uh-huh.” Tony nods. “So, this friend you mentioned – does he swing around New York, fighting small crime for the good of the people?”

_“…maybe.”_

“Right. Good. Telling the truth so far. Why might our mutual web-slinging friend need to be asking about the potential for broken kneecaps?”

_“Because…I think…I might have?”_

And there went Tony’s mental stability for the day. “I’m sorry, _what_?”

_He’s hurt he’s hurt his aunt is going to kill me he’s hurt–_

_“I was swinging away from this mugging, right? And the man being robbed managed to get away, but the mugger still had a knife so I was trying to dodge at the same time as webbing him up and I kinda tripped – Mr Stark, are you okay?”_

Tony forces a shaky breath into his aching lungs. _Breathe. Breathe_. “Fine, kid. You were saying?”

_“Um, yeah. Yeah, so my reflexes still move faster than my balance sometimes and I swung up onto the fire escape to get away but I sorta misjudged it and smacked my knee into the corner – anyway, it hurts.”_

“Right.” _Breathe_.

_“And I think it’s swelling but I don’t want to touch it and – oh, God, that doesn’t feel good.”_

For some reason, the sound of the kid’s panicked gasps snaps Tony out of his own impending anxiety attack. “Kid? Parker, focus up. One thing at a time, all right?”

_“Yeah. Uh-huh.”_

“Can you move it? Bend it, straighten it?”

_“I, um…”_ Peter grunts.

_He’s hurt he’s hurt oh shit–_

_“Not really? Oh, crap, that’s f– um, it hurts.”_

“You can say the fuck word, kid. I’m a big boy.”

_“Okay, great, because it _really_ fucking hurts.”_ Peter hisses. _“I don’t know what you are, but I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to be there.”_

“Are you…talking to your knee?”

_“I’m talking to the mystery lump that might either be a developing bruise or a piece of floating bone. To be determined.”_

“…right. How are you planning to determine it, exactly?”

_“See what happens?”_

“See what–? No!” Tony skims through the webpage FRIDAY brings up, his horror growing with every line. “You’re supposed to be a genius! If you leave it too long, you could lose all movement, sever ligaments, compound the fracture, develop problems for the rest of your life–“

_“Mr Stark, get off the internet.” _Peter lets out a huff of effort. _“I, um…my aunt has a late shift tonight, and I can’t go to a hospital with my powers. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”_

_This kid_. “No. No, absolutely not.”

_“…no to what?”_

“No, I’m not letting you deal with this alone.” Tony’s instincts are screaming for him to stop; he doesn’t let people get close enough to hurt him, he just doesn’t. Simple self-preservation.

But Peter went out of his way to save Tony’s tech as well as his ass, even after the Ferry Incident (also capitalised, that’s how serious it was). There isn’t a bad bone in his body. He’s too young, or at least he seems like he is, to ever betray Tony. There’s a strange sort of comfort about that, about him.

_“…right?”_

Yes. Right. Injured child that Tony is possibly responsible for, although he does need to work out the details of that with the only woman who scares him as much as Pepper does.

“You can swing, right?”

_“Probably? My arms are fine.”_

“Okay, I’m in my apartment in Manhattan.”

_“Why Manhattan?”_

“I sold the Tower, remember? You kinda crashed a plane because of it.”

_“No, I mean – why not the Compound?”_

_Why indeed?_ Because every abandoned bedroom hits Tony like a gut punch. Because the memories of Steve more often than not leave him breathless with rage, with regret, with betrayal. Because seeing Rhodey’s legs makes the back of his throat burn with guilt. Because Pepper, as much as she tries not to, hates it just as much as he does. But Peter doesn’t need to know all that; he’s still just a kid.

“Just easier,” he says instead.

_“Okay. Yeah. Fairs. Uh-huh.”_

“I don’t speak teenager, Parker. Anyway, I’m sending _Karen_ the address.”

_“Why are you saying it like _that_?”_

“Because I made you a state-of-the-art artificial intelligence and you named it _Karen_.”

_“Karen is a good name!”_

“Sure thing, kid.” Tony marvels briefly at how easy it is to talk to the kid, how strangely enjoyable. “Okay, start making your way over here, and watch that knee.”

_“Are – are you sure? I don’t want to get in your way, or whatever, so I can probably try and set it myself–“_

“No! Jesus!” Tony takes another deep breath. “Get your ass over here, you idiot, before you give me a heart attack.”

_“Got it. See you soon, Mr Stark!”_ The fact that Peter sounds excited to see him is a damn miracle all by itself.

* * *

Tony tries to focus on the Iron Spider again for the next twenty minutes, but every modification reminds him of the kid swinging towards him; hurt, in pain.

Maybe he should code in some basic biomedical scanners to Karen in every suit, to avoid something like this. If he gets another phone call like that one…

Even better, he could improve the shock absorption, as much as he can in the usual suit, anyway. Especially around joints and vulnerable areas – the head, the ribs, the neck…

Giving up, he turns to his own nanotech, fiddling with what he hopes will be a detachable housing unit, but even then his thoughts circle back around to Peter.

“Gah!” He shoves his stool away from the workbench in frustration and paces. His lab here is small, nothing compared to the ones in the Tower or the Compound; Pepper had put her foot down, rightly so. This apartment is supposed to be a home, and nothing else.

Peter’s hurt. Should Tony have kept a closer eye on him, ignored May’s demands for him to stay away? All he ever wanted was to keep the kid safe: get him out of his sweatpants, keep him at a distance from Steve, keep him away from Toomes. He’d thought keeping his distance was helping – helping the kid, helping his aunt, helping the whole situation – but what if Peter had been hurt worse and reluctant to call Tony? What if–?

His spiral of blame is interrupted by a light tap on the window, then another, so he spins around to see Spider-Man clinging to the outside of his apartment.

“Fri, open the window.”

“Hey!” Peter flips inside and lands in a perfect crouch before bounding over to Tony like a newborn deer.

Tony’s eyes follow his knees. “What the hell…?”

“Hm?” Peter looks down. “Oh, yeah. I think it’s fine!”

“Are you serious?”

“I – I mean, I heal fast, so maybe it just sorted itself out? I don’t know. Um, sorry for calling – that was totally Karen’s idea – but I don’t have to stay if I’m in the way – uh, sorry to bother you?” Peter pulls his mask off, leaving his hair sticking up in every conceivable direction, his eyes wide and apologetic.

Tony laughs.

Honest-to-God, wheezing, breathless, stomach-cramping laughter. Maybe it’s hysterical relief, maybe sleep deprivation, or maybe this is just that funny.

“Mr Stark?”

“You – you–“ Tony sits heavily on what turns out to be a toolbox, almost doubled over. “You thought you’d broken your knee?”

“My _kneecap_.” Peter sounds petulant at best, sulky at worst, which just sets Tony off again.

God, he can’t remember the last time he laughed this hard.

“Okay, okay, your kneecap, sorry.”

“Mr _Stark_, this could’ve been _serious_,” the kid whines.

“Right, except it wasn’t, and I’m now enjoying the fact that I don’t have to explain to your scary aunt why you’re seriously injured to the point of missing school. If she sees me again, I think she’ll gut me.” Tony lets out a last chuckle and stands, still grinning.

Peter cracks a smile as well, a little more hesitant, but God, it’s a good smile. “I don’t think she actually hates you, Mr Stark. She just – well, I told you she’d freak out.”

“You did, you did. Still, she clearly hasn’t stopped you going out on the webs.”

“No. No, it took a lot of negotiating down, but…yeah. I think she’s starting to get it.”

“Excellent. She might drop the child abuse lawsuit, if that’s the case.” Tony claps his hands, comes to a decision. “Come on, I still want to check your knee, and then food.”

“Food?” Peter echoes.

“Yes, food. The thing you eat. What you want?” Peter’s here, and here to stay apparently, and who’s Tony to argue with that? He may as well enjoy it while it lasts; once people see Tony, really see him, they don’t stick around for long.

“Uhh, whatever you want is fine…”

“But what do _you_ want?”

Peter hums thoughtfully, twisting his mask around his fingers, which is annoyingly cute.

_Whoa, slow your roll, Stark. You’re not his dad._

“Pizza?”

“Pizza? Yeah, can do. Better carb you up, or whatever. Should probably get some protein as well, right? I don’t know.”

“I thought you had, like, _all_ the degrees.”

“All the degrees?”

“Yeah. All of them.” Peter shrugs. “You’re smart.”

“Nothing about human biology in there, kiddo.” _He thinks I’m smart?_

No, Tony _knows_ he’s smart. Why does one teenager’s opinion matter to him so much?

“Well, get me a pepperoni, or something.” Peter almost balks, like he hates asking for anything ever. “I mean – if that’s okay. You know, actually, whatever you want is fine, unless it’s anchovies, ‘cause then–“

“Pause to breathe, Spider-ling. I know enough biology to know that oxygen is essential.” Tony waits, unable to hide his fond grin. What is this kid turning me into? “You better get your own, because you aren’t touching my plain cheese.”

The last of Peter’s nerves seem to melt away, replaced by a dangerous kind of mischief that dances in his eyes. “Is that a challenge, Mr Stark?”

_Uh-oh._

And if Pepper comes home two hours later to her fiancé shrieking profanities at the ceiling he’s failing to reach with the broom in his hands while a giggling, upside-down teenager dances out of reach and takes an obnoxiously large bite out of a slice of plain cheese pizza?

Well, they’re not going to discuss it ever again.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on tumblr @akillerqueenwrites, or my main blog @akillerqueenyouare. come say hi, ask questions, leave prompts or just yell at me.


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